The Dichotomy of Good and Evil
by InsaneKAT
Summary: Contrary to the popular beliefs, Harry Potter did not become an Auror/the Minister/a Muggle/the next Dark Lord, outlaw cheese, waste his life drinking, get a harem, leave Britain, find a long-lost sibling, destroy Magical Britain, or even become a DADA teacher at Hogwarts. Nope. He's decided to teach History. Post-DH. Happy birthday, Harry Potter and Jo Rowling.


**AN. **Happy Birthday, Harry James Potter and Jo Rowling. I give you both imaginary pairs of earphones because I just _know_ that at least a quarter of the world is celebrating today and your eardrums might not hold.

Also, happy super belated birthday, Disk 9. This fanfic is co-dedicated as a late birthday gift :) I'm sorry I didn't manage to get you anything and/or everything.

All right, I read too many super/rich/powerful/mad/dark/happily-ever-after Harry fanfics, and this came up. I don't think I've ever read a fanfic where he became a History Professor. I just wanted to play with the idea.

Just so you don't badger me like a Hufflepuff, pun _quite_ intended, Harry isn't sarcastic to Minerva because he still considers himself a student, and her a professor.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the characters of Harry Potter. All belongs to J.K. Rowling apart from the plot. If there are any problems which any of you want addressed, reviewing is always nice. Flames will be used to heat hot chocolate with Lupin,

Now excuse me, I'm going to cry now… my first finished Harry Potter fanfic. *looks at overflowing folder with discarded HP fanfics* oh dear…

**The Dichotomy of Good and Evil**

Harry pushed open the oak door that lead to the McGonagall's office - formerly Dumbledore's office - and was greeted with the bizarrely organized room. Minerva sat at Dumbledore's old desk, where she was scanning through a roll of parchment. She looked up at the new arrival.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." She gestured to a chair. "I see you received my letter."

He nodded. "Hello, Headmistress. I see Hogwarts is looking better."

"Much, and I had been thinking about renovating parts of the castle." The new Headmistress of Hogwarts waved a hand, and a cup of steaming tea floated towards her guest, who thanked her and turned down her offer of sugar and milk.

"I heard you turned down the Auror position they offered you." Minerva said, as she stirred sugar and lemon into her own cup of tea. "I'm actually quite curious on why, since you were quite excited and eager when first presented with the choice."

Harry laughed, a quiet sound. "Perhaps I still am. Perhaps I am not. I'm actually not quite sure myself. But I would never accept a position that is aimed not at me, but this." He raised a hand and pressed two fingers onto the bandage wrapped around his head, obscuring the famous scar.

Minerva sighed. "Your fame opens doors that would never have been opened otherwise, though I do admit that your rejection to that was quite a surprise."

The young man shrugged. "I was - still am - an abysmal potions brewer, a half-hearted transfiguration student at best, pathetic at learning or thinking levelheadedly. I do not believe I have what it takes to be an Auror."

"Yet you've faced Voldemort down several times and come out alive and relatively unharmed." Objected the Headmistress.

"Sheer luck and Gryffindor bravery. They tend to get people killed, maimed, or in trouble easily." Dismissed Harry. "An Auror requires precision, collaboration, timing, skill, knowledge, levelheadedness, persistence, vigilance, I could go on and on about it, but that isn't the point."

"Alright." Minerva took a sip of her tea. "Have you figured out what to do next, then?"

"Me?" Harry gave that quiet laugh again. Somehow, it gave Minerva a chilly feeling. "Well, that's what I'd like to talk to you about."

"You want to be a Professor?"

"Yes."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"No. History."

Minerva's eyebrows rose. "You never liked History."

Harry was still smiling gently. He looked almost like Albus… just a lot wearier. "With acceptable reasons." He finished his tea and stared into the empty cup, his eyes deep and thoughtful, as if the cup held the answers to all the questions in the world. Minerva waited - she knew that there was something else that still gripped the young hero.

"Binns hadn't involved in the war." Harry blurted out, startling the Headmistress slightly.

And he was correct. The History Professor, Binns, had taught right through the war, and afterwards people realized that he was quite oblivious to the mayhem being thrown about. In fact, he didn't even question the destruction of two History classrooms or the absence of several students during Harry's seventh year.

"But you had been." Minerva said. "You had been involved. Terribly involved."

"I had been." Agreed Harry, and then his voice turned so dry that imaginary tumbleweeds started rolling. "I blame Magic – it started it all when it dragged me from the cupboard under the stairs, and ended it all when I decided that the disarming spell was the perfect spell to go against Voldemort with."

Minerva let out a chuckle, and Harry smiled again, a slight tilt of the corners of his lips, hesitant and almost bashful and definitely not Potter.

He was not the rash and unthinking Gryffindor that graced the halls of Hogwarts before the Battle, the proud and eager student who had glowed at the mention of his Christmas presents. Nor was he the His eyes now glimmered with something other than the innocent light that used to shine from killer-green eyes.

-HP-

Much later, after Harry Potter had finally left Minerva's office, the Headmistress turned to the portrait of a man on the wall, looking on with dark eyes.

Severus Snape, who had been silent throughout the entire conversation between Harry and the aging woman, said, "Lupin."

"Excuse me?"

"Lupin." Severus repeated. "He reminds me of the werewolf. All battered robes and timeless eyes. I was actually expecting a gloat or two, maybe a few moans and groans about his life, but the boy has definitely changed."

"He does seem a lot more meek and resigned." Agreed Minerva. "Frankly, I feel that worries me a lot more than it should."

Severus sighed, leaned back into his chair, nursing a small glass of whiskey that had been conveniently added onto his portrait. "Now that I think about it, he had been wearing his school robes – robes that are ill fitting for a man who had slayed the Dark Lord. I'd have thought the Galleons are being tossed from all directions at him."

There was a brief pause after the tiny jibe from the former Potions Master. Then Minerva quietly said, "Perhaps it might have something to do with why he's eyeing Binn's job."

Severus sat straight up. "His parents left him a vault."

"He still has it." Minerva agreed. "Yet the Potter family had never been terribly rich or famous, though rumor has it that he is going to be the heir of both Black and Potter Houses."

Severus snorted. "Please. Black might have been the heir to one of Ancient and Noble houses, but I'm certain he was tossed into Azkaban before he left a will. The Black fortune had been divided between Narcissa and Bellatrix and most of _that_ was handed to the Dark Lord on a silver platter. Quite literally."

Minerva sighed. "Is it just me, or is his life just an official screw up?"

Severus half-shrugged and downed the rest of his glass. "Probably just you. At least the boy is alive."

"Your standards are lax."

"Now _that_ is a first."

-HP-

The students at Hogwarts who had remained after the war to complete their education at the battlegrounds of the Great Battle were given the shock of their lives when Harry Potter was announced as their History teacher. The seventh years were slightly disgruntled to be taught by the young hero, but the vast majority of the students were excited and looking forward to their first History lesson of the year.

So one fine day, Ginny Weasley and the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors stepped into class, watching as the savior of Wizardkind removed a pair of square spectacles and exchanged them to the round ones that everyone recognized.

Harry turned to all of them, his face unbetraying and distant.

"Good morning." He said blankly. "I am your new History professor, Harry Potter. If you try anything beyond 'Professor Potter' without my consent, I will hex you."

With a sharp motion of his wrist towards the chairs, the entire class rushed for their seats. There was a sudden class of pattering shoe heels, crashing tables and chairs, and the scraping of parchment. Harry ignored them and continued on with his narrative.

"I have four main rules in class that I expect all of you to respect and follow unless I give a 'cleared of all charges' command. One," He held up a single finger. "There will be no House Rivalry, racism, discrimination of any kind, bullying, asking for anything to do with my celebrity status, pranks, and/or sleeping." He grabbed a piece of chalk, inspected it, and then tossed it into a basket with surprising accuracy.

"Two, I don't care if you're not paying attention or if you're late to class without a proper reason, because it's my business to teach and yours to learn. It is also _not_ my problem if you would be facing your Heads of Houses for the mentioned reason." He stepped from behind his desk and towards his blackboard with a new piece of chalk pinched between two fingers.

"Three, if any of you have any questions that involve me _other_ than inquiry on my teaching methods, I will either hex you or give you detention, depending on severity. Question topics include and _are not limited_ to: my childhood, Ministry connections, family, career, availability status, virginity, Quidditch, personal opinions on the Battle, Voldemort, friends, romance preferences, life, scar, overall sanity and the of the dichotomy of good and evil."

Several girls looked partially shocked. One looked disappointed. The males looked on with more than a little awe at the hero's lung capacity. Harry looked indifferent as he scratched out letters on the blackboard.

"Question motives include and _are not limited_ to: spying, personal reasons, curiosity, awe, stupidity, romance preferences, rumor confirming, status elevating, lust, gold, or anything that does _not _have to do with lessons." Harry continued, finally stopping and taking in a breath to prevent suffocation.

"Finally, this is a History class, which from what I assumed requires _no wands_. So if anyone has their little chopsticks waving around and threatening to take out someone's eye, the next thing you know you'll be explaining to your Heads of Houses. Is that clear?"

He then stepped away from the blackboard, and without a pause, ordered, "You will now be given half a minute to copy what I have on the board because that is exactly how long it took to write it. It is the rough plan of what I plan to teach throughout the year, and anyone who is unable to read my chicken scratch will unfortunately have to waste a minute of their lives with me as I attempt to explain it to them after class. Once you are finished, you will be expected to spend ten minutes attempting to recall anything and everything you know on the topic of History."

-HP-

Contrary to the popular belief, Harry Potter was not born with great wealth and prestige titles behind his name. After the war, he also did not become an Auror, or become Minister, or outlaw cheese, waste his life drinking, get a harem, leave Britain, become a Muggle, find a long-lost sibling, die early, or destroy Magical Britain. Nor did he marry (insert name), get in an affair, do anything illegal, land himself in Azkaban, become the next Dark Lord, or even become the DADA teacher at Hogwarts.

Nope.

History class is now the class where one of the most sarcastic teacher ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts, second only the infamous Severus Snape, teaches. Yet nobody minded. After all, this was Harry Potter, History Professor.

For the next twenty years the old hero remains loyally at his post, finally being pressured enough to step up to the position of Deputy after Professor Sprout handed her place to Neville, then later to Headmaster once Minerva retired. There he stays for another few years before he finds a replacement and goes back to History, where he taught until his ghost was finally exorcised.


End file.
